


One of Those Days

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Generalized Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9429548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

“You okay, Y/N?” Spencer asked as he approached you in the bookstore at the end of your shift. For the past couple of years you’d worked here, this insanely sweet, genius FBI agent would show up in your shop to read whatever he wanted at that particular moment. After you helped him find a book he’d been dying to read, you introduced yourselves, and ever since, you had been great friends. So much that you told him about your generalized depression. “Having one of those days?”

“You mean the days where I am randomly sad for absolutely no reason at all and can’t seem to shake it?” you asked facetiously. “Yea. I hate it.”

He reached over the counter and handed you a cup with the Dunkin label on it. “Will a Dunkaccino help?” he asked with an adorable smile, his toothy-grin akin to a kid showing off how well they brushed their teeth for the first time.

You took the cup from his hands, lifting it to your mouth and taking a sip of the deliciously decadent hot chocolate and coffee mixture. “It won’t make it go away, but chocolate and coffee always help. Thanks, Spencer.”

“No problem. By your text this morning, I kind of figured you were having an off day,” he said, waiting for you as you clocked out and headed out toward the restaurant where you had reservations.

“How could you tell from my text?” you asked, genuinely confused. Of course, you knew he was going to dazzle you with some lengthy explanation as to how he could tell your mood through the phone. 

As if on cue, he said, “Well, normally you don’t use correct grammar or spelling in your texts, which I always find funny because you were an English major and you work in a bookstore,” he laughed, “”but when you get like this, you start using full sentences with punctuation and everything. When I first started noticing that you switched your way of writing, I put it together with your moods.”

“Of course you did,” you smiled as you finally opened the door to the restaurant. As you walked in, a man walked out without even saying thank you for holding the door and in the process, he stepped on your foot. Immediately, the heat rose in your face and you were about to call after him when Spencer lightly grabbed your arm and led you inside. 

“It’s not worth it,” he said, placing his hand behind your back and leading you toward the table. You side-eyed him hard event though you knew he was right. When you were sad, you were also quick to anger, even when it wasn’t worth it. You hated it; you didn’t like feeling angry and sad, but you couldn’t help it. “I know it’s hard for you,” he said, sitting across from the table and ordering your drink for you, given you were still too angry to think straight. “But it’s not worth it.”

“I know, Spence,” you whined, slamming your head into the cushioned booth behind you. “It’s just so haaaarrrrrdddddd. I hate feeling like this. Even on medication, I still get like this occasionally, which my psychiatrist and therapist said is totally normal.”

“It is normal,” he replied as the waiter returned with your drinks. “What matters is that your aware of the sadness and the anger and you do your best to work through it.”

After placing your order, you took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled out through your mouth. The anger had subsided and thankfully the waiter was great so you had no excuses to be angry there, but the random sadness was still there. “Hey, Spence, do you mind if I come over to your place and we play a game or watch a movie or something. I don’t wanna be alone tonight. It’s not good when I’m like this.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he laughed. “I can continue to teach you chess if you want and then maybe we can watch a movie.”

“That sounds great,” you replied as you ate your meal. You hated imposing on him, although he always insisted that you weren’t/ It’s just that you felt you should be able to handle these moods yourself, but you couldn’t and he was the one you always went to; if it wasn’t your mother, it was him. “Thanks for being awesome, by the way.”

“How so?” he asked, completely oblivious to how awesome he actually was. That was the thing about awesome people, they never knew the extent to which they were awesome.

You genuinely smiled for the first time that day. “Being an amazing friend,” you responded. “Anytime I feel like this, I can always count on your to at least try and make me feel better and you never make me feel like doing it is a burden. It’s just not what I’m used to. Everyone walks away from me - but not you. So thank you.”

He shied away from the compliment, looking down at the table and fidgeting with his thumbs. “You’re welcome,” he said softly. While you were working on your generalized depression, you told him he needed to work on taking a compliment at face value. 

After dinner, you both made your way back to his apartment and played chess for a little while. He of course kicked your ass, but you were learning, and you were actually a pretty quick learner. “My brain hurts,” you laughed, squeezing your temples, “Can we watch a movie now? I don’t think my brain can take much more chess tonight.”

“Yea, sure,” he said, grabbing some wine from the refrigerator and pouring you both a glass. “Move up,” he said, sitting down after handing you your drink. Once he was seated, he pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you. He gave great hugs and they always made you feel better. “You wanna stay over tonight? I may get called in, but if I do, you can just use your key to lock up in the morning. If you want,” he said, cuddling your head against his chest.

You smiled. “Yea, that sounds great to me,” you replied, leaning into him. “Thanks again.”


End file.
